Haven 1: How to Save a Life (8 page)

The dog started the scratching again, more emphatic now that the door was open a crack.

“All right.” The kid moved forward like he planned to join him on a search of the apartment.

Walter held a hand up. “Is he your friend?”

“Yeah. Sometimes he lets me hang out with him.” The kid shrugged. “He’s always nice to me. And I like his dog.”

And being alone a lot of the time sucked. Even for a tough guy like him. Walter had been there enough times in his own youth to know.

He tipped his head toward the apartment down the hall. “Why don’t you wait at your place while I take a look? I’ll stop by when I’m done and let you know if I find anything.”

The kid threw him another skeptical glare.

The dog’s scratching had ended, but the whining had picked up.

“Trust me, kid, you might not want to see what’s behind this door.”

His eyes widened. Message received. He nodded and headed to his apartment but didn’t go all the way in or shut the door. He stood inside the open doorway and watched Walter.

Better than nothing.

Walter pushed open the door to Seth’s apartment, and a rush of hot air engulfed him. He didn’t have time to get a good look inside. A yellow Labrador barreled forward, his gigantic front paws and drooling tongue leading the way. Walter fell onto his ass, the weight of the dog pressing down on his chest and ribs. The Lab licked his face from his chin to his temple. Not a trained attack dog, then.

Five years since Walter had left the force, and he couldn’t hold his own against a dog. Good thing he’d taken the early retirement deal they’d offered him. Apparently he’d gotten too old for this shit.

The dog stared down at him, waiting. A pink collar sparkling with rhinestones hung from his neck. Who bought a dog that size a collar like that?

“Get off me.”

The dog licked his face again, and the kid laughed from down the hall.

Walter threw him a look.

He must’ve managed a serious enough one. The kid said, “All right. I’m going.” He pointed at the dog. “Make sure he doesn’t get out, or I
will
call the cops on you.” Then he went inside his apartment and shut the door behind him.

Finally the dog relented. Walter stood and corralled him inside the apartment. He shut the door before the dog could make an escape.

The low light from the streetlamps shining through the windows along the apartment’s opposite wall didn’t offer enough illumination to do a search. Using the tip of the penlight, Walter felt for a light switch. He really wished he’d had a pair of gloves in his car. He didn’t need to leave his prints all over the place.

Another minute of searching and he found the switch and flipped it on. The lone lamp didn’t offer a lot of light, but it was better than nothing. There wasn’t much to the place. Living room to the right. Kitchen area to the left around a corner. Narrow hallway beyond that. Strings of shiny fluorescent beads hung as a makeshift hallway door, like you’d see in a fortune teller’s booth at a carnival. Not that Walter would ever frequent a place like that. Too many crowds. He preferred the quiet of his apartment these days.

He examined the living room in more detail, the dog following him as he circled the space. No trash or food lying around. No drug paraphernalia anywhere. No signs Seth Fisher had been dealing.

There was a couch, two metal TV trays, and an end table with a dainty, ornate lamp that had a glass shade painted in an array of pinks and oranges. Pillows covered the couch. Fringy stuff in more bright colors.

Behind the couch was a row of windows that ran the length of the living room. No drapes or blinds. Just more of the sparkly beads hanging from the top of each window. An air-conditioning unit, turned off, sat perched in the center windowsill. Explained the heat. The blazing sun from earlier that day and the closed windows would’ve raised the temperature inside the meager apartment to an unbearable level.

On the wall opposite the couch was a bookshelf set up as a television stand. Walter scanned the shelves, taking note of the dust patterns. Nothing missing or recently moved. Figurines covered one shelf. Unicorns in every color of the rainbow. A framed photo stood amid the display of statues. A picture of a young girl. A sister?

Also on the shelves above the TV were an answering machine indicating no new messages, three other photos in frames, and a stack of utility bills. Walter used the penlight to scan through the bills without touching them. Most were marked with a handwritten note indicating a date they’d been paid. Seth Fisher paid his bills on time.

Walter returned his attention to the photos on the bookshelf. One was of the dog who now sat drooling beside him. The smallest picture was of two young men, both smiling, holding up a piece of paper, their arms around each other’s shoulders. Walter removed the photocopy of the driver’s license from his pocket for a comparison. The man on the right was definitely Seth, even though the photo was a few years old.

He examined the photocopy from Vargas. Not a bad picture for a license. Seth looked happy. And young. Almost too young for the club. Once again the image of Seth reminded Walter of another young man. One he’d watched die too young, covered in far too much blood.

A knock sounded on the door. He folded up the paper, and before he’d made it across the room, the door handle rattled. Why did it not surprise him the little sneak would try that? And he didn’t mean the kid down the hall.

He flung open the door. A shorter man stumbled inside, arms flailing as he fell forward. Walter caught him and didn’t need more than a quick glance in the low light to know he held Kevin Price in his arms.

Fortunately Walter had been better prepared this time and didn’t fall backward with Kevin on top of him like he’d done with the dog. But the force of the impact did send him back several steps, his ass hitting the end table, leaving the glass lamp precariously perched on the edge. He needed to stand carefully or the lamp would go sailing to the floor and shatter into pieces. For all he knew, it was the one thing in Seth Fisher’s meager apartment that was a priceless antique.

Kevin squirmed, pushing at Walter’s chest at the same time. “Let go of me.”

“Take it easy.”

That had Kevin squirming more. The movement did nothing to keep Walter from thinking about Kevin’s body pressed against his. Another squirm and the top of Kevin’s head just missed smacking into his chin.

“Fucking let go of me.” Kevin kicked his shin.

“Fuck.” Walter released him. “That hurt.” He should’ve kept his hold on Kevin despite the kicking, because the next thing he knew a fist was barreling toward his eye.

He held his body still, which kept the lamp from falling but meant his eye socket absorbed the full force of that punch. “Fuck.” He’d never cursed this much in his life. He held a hand over his eye and got his ass off the edge of the table.

“Oh God. Walter?”

“Yes. Who did you think it was?”

Kevin shook his open hand like he’d busted it. “Oh God. That really hurt.”

“Tell me about it.” Walter dabbed at the tender skin below his squinting eye. “Why did you punch me?”

“I didn’t know it was you. And you wouldn’t let go.”

“I was trying to keep you from busting up Seth’s apartment.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the lamp.

“Oh.” Kevin smoothed the front of his dress shirt. He wouldn’t make eye contact. “This isn’t your place?”

The pillows, the fringe, the sparkly beads hanging in the hall doorway? The unicorns? “No, it’s not my place.”

Kevin glanced around, checking out the apartment, the display of color. Maybe he got it wasn’t Walter’s taste. “Oh.”

“If you thought I lived here, then how did you not know it was me?”

“I don’t know. I just… I’m just not used to…”

“Being touched by a man?”

Kevin hesitated. “I guess.”

“You didn’t have a problem with it earlier.” Walter tried to open his eye and immediately regretted the action. “You thought I invited you to my apartment to what? Fuck? What did you think? I’d grab you the minute you walked in the door?”

Kevin ducked his head, and he was definitely avoiding Walter’s gaze now. Even with only the one eye open, Walter couldn’t miss the embarrassment. He’d never seen a guy look that uncomfortable. Kevin swiped at the carpeted floor with the side of his shoe as if he hoped to find a secret escape hatch. He gave up on the carpet and examined the back of his hand. The knuckles were red and starting to swell.

“Wait here.” Walter went to the kitchen, the panting dog following him. He wished he had those gloves. It was not a good idea to touch anything, but a different instinct fought with those of the former cop. Using a dog-paw-print towel hanging from the fridge door handle, he pulled a tray of ice from the freezer and wrapped several cubes in the towel. He spotted two dog bowls on the floor beside the fridge. One empty. One flipped upside down, the water long gone, either drunk or evaporated in the stifling heat of the closed apartment. Even if he filled both bowls before he left, no way could he leave the dog there like that. Walter returned to the living room.

Kevin was walking around the room, his right hand cradled in his left.

“Come here.”

Kevin jerked his head up. “Huh?”

Walter held up the towel. “I’ve got ice.”

“Oh, okay.” Kevin hesitated for a moment, then moved toward him.

Walter took ahold of Kevin’s wrist and gently placed the towel over the red knuckles. He felt Kevin’s racing pulse through the thin skin at the inside of his wrist. He caressed his thumb over that sensitive spot, not even aware he would do such a thing until his thumb was already working over the skin, trying to ease Kevin’s nerves and, in the process, creating a flood of tension throughout his own body. Not the kind of tension a man got pissed about. The kind that ended in one specific release.

He focused on Kevin’s hand, checking for more damage. There were several scrapes across his palm. “What happened here?”

“The brick wall outside the Haven.”

“You two get in a fight?”

“Very funny. I tripped.”

“Seems like you do that a lot. You’re kind of a klutz.”

“You’re real smart if that’s all you’ve figured out about me.” Despite the harsh words, there was humor in Kevin’s voice. He looked up at Walter. “What about your eye?”

“It’ll be okay.” He could even open it now.

“It looks like it hurts.” Kevin reached up with his free hand and stopped short of touching Walter’s cheek under his eye. He dropped his hand and wiped his palm on the leather pants.

Walter laughed. The nervous chuckle surged out of his chest. He was acting like he was on a first date. His first date ever. “You pack a pretty mean punch.”

Kevin held the towel in place on the back of his hand and stepped away, his back to Walter. “For a little guy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You were thinking it.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

Kevin spun to face Walter and examined him with genuine astonishment.

“Did you find anything?” The kid from the hall stood at the open door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Seth’s not here.” Walter pointed to the kid. “Kevin, this is Seth’s neighbor.”

Kevin tucked the towel with the ice under his arm and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.” The kid hesitated, studying Kevin with more intensity than he had Walter. Finally he let go of the door and they shook, the kid towering over Kevin.

Kevin asked, “How well do you know Seth? Is he a friend of yours?”

The kid gave him another long look, this one more exasperated than scrutinizing. “You’re nosy.” Without another word he walked past him and focused on Walter. “You didn’t find anything?”

“Not yet. When did you last see him?”

“He was here yesterday morning. We usually head out at the same time.” He shrugged. Obviously a common gesture for him, as if what he said or thought needed an explanation. “He catches the subway a block past my school, so we walk together.”

“Do you know if he has any family or friends I can get in touch with?”

“I don’t think he talks to his mom and dad. He told me once I was lucky my grandma worked so hard to keep me. He used to have a sister, but I think she died or something. He’s got a friend who comes by sometimes. Toby. I thought he was his boyfriend, but I guess they’re just friends. Other than that, my grandma and me are really the only family he’s got.” He paused, then stared Walter down. “Seth’s a good guy. If you’re here to hassle him ’cause he’s gay then—”

“Trust me, that’s not why I’m here.” Walter gave his own pointed look.

“Oh, okay. I just don’t like people giving him shit for who he is. He’s real good to me and my grandma. Helps us a lot with fixing stuff at our apartment. More than the asshole building manager does.” The kid glanced around Seth’s living room. “I mean, we don’t let him decorate our place or anything. Even my grandma doesn’t like this much pink. Or that many unicorns.”

Walter laughed. “Hey, I’m gay, and even I wouldn’t let him touch my place.”

Kevin smirked from across the room. He bit his bottom lip as soon as he spotted Walter looking his way. He still had the towel with the ice tucked under his arm instead of on his hand.

The dog came barreling out of the kitchen and dashed to the kid.

“Hey, Charlie.” He patted the dog on the head.

“Charlie?” Walter asked.

“Yeah. That’s his name.” The kid got on his knees and rubbed Charlie behind both ears, engulfing the dog’s head with his large hands, not that the dog seemed to mind. “A dog’s gotta have a name.” He bent forward and let Charlie lick his face.

You could tell a lot about a guy by the way he was with a dog, especially one that wasn’t his own.

“Well,” Walter said, “with that collar I figured…”

“Seth just likes a little color in his life. Doesn’t make him a bad person ’cause he puts a pink collar on a boy dog. Jeez.”

“Good point.”

Kevin laughed, this time not even trying to hide the grin he aimed at Walter.

The dog gave the kid another lick, then trotted to Kevin, who bent to greet him and held out a hand, letting Charlie give him a sniff and a lick.